


Play On

by giselleslash



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giselleslash/pseuds/giselleslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historical AU | 1900 | Arthur’s father passes away and he learns his inheritance is in ruins. He’s forced out of his home and into a rooming house where he meets Merlin and proceeds to pine over him. Also, Gwaine and Elena are ever helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play On

“Everything? All of it is gone?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Pendragon, but other than the small annual stipend you’ll receive from your mother’s dowry the estate and all Pendragon lands go to your uncle Agravaine.”

“How is that possible? I’m my father’s heir, the land and estate are entailed to me.” Arthur looked across the solicitor's desk in confusion.

“In normal circumstances, yes, but your father accrued a great deal of debt over time, especially this past year while you were traveling the continent. He made several bad business ventures and your uncle loaned the former Lord Pendragon money and bought parcels of land as your father needed funds.” The solictor’s voice was nervous as he handed Arthur the news.

Arthur scowled. Agravaine had always been a thorn in his father’s side, why he’d gone to him for funding was beyond Arthur’s comprehension. His father knew Agravaine’s eyes had always been on Pendragon Hall. He’d even gone so far as pressuring his sister to marry Uther in order to get closer to the lands and home he so desperately sought.

What had his father been thinking?

“Again, I’m sorry to be the bearer of such devastating news, Lord Pendragon. I did all I could to help your father but he failed to heed my advice.” The solicitor seemed especially nervous and Arthur decided to put him out of his misery.

“Of course it’s not your fault, Mr. Nobles, you did what you could. My father had the final say in all of his actions and to him the blame must go.”

Arthur must have looked a sight because Mr. Nobles took his spectacles off and leaned toward him in a conciliatory manner. “My lord,” he began, “though you’ve been handed a blow you can rest assured that your title remains. You are Lord Pendragon and Lord Pendragon you shall remain.”

Arthur had had enough. He abruptly pushed back his chair and stood to leave.

“Yes, Lord Pendragon, lord of nought,” Arthur said angrily. “An enviable title indeed.”

 

~*~

 

“Bad luck, Pendragon.”

“Succinct and fraught with emotion as always, Gwaine. Thank you.”

Arthur was slouched in a chair in the darkest corner of their club, swallowing down as much brandy as he could muster. Gwaine leaned forward to take the bottle out of Arthur’s hand before he could pour himself another glass.

“Usually I’d be the first to claim that the answers to all of life’s dilemmas, great and small, are to be found at the bottom of a bottle of fine spirits or between the milky white thighs of a buxom lass, but in your case, Pendragon, I abandon my theory.”

“Oh but you’re a wretched hypocrite.” Arthur scowled.

“Yes, I know,” Gwaine said as he held the bottle aloft as Arthur made a reach for it. “But you’re a different sort of creature altogether, Arthur. You’ve been dealt quite the hand today, but this isn’t going to fix it and well you know it.”

Arthur groaned and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “What am I to do, Gwaine?” he mumbled through his fingers. “I’ve nothing but my name, and that will be worth less than nothing once the story of my downfall makes the gossip rounds.”

“Didn’t your solicitor say you still had an income from your mother?”

Arthur looked up at Gwaine. “Scraps. A pittance.”

“How much?”

“Four hundred pounds. What am I to do with only four hundred pounds? That wouldn’t even keep me in wine and horses, for God’s sake.”

“I think you must resign yourself to the fact that you can no longer buy wine for your horses, Arthur.”

Arthur could hear the teasing lilt of Gwaine’s voice and he wanted to punch him for being so facetious when Arthur’s world was falling apart but a solid chuckle broke free from his lips and Gwaine joined him.

“I told you nothing good would come of spoiling them so.” Gwaine continued.

“Watch yourself, Hughes, else I challenge you to a duel for impugning the virtue of my horses.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Gwaine laughed. “Paragons. Every last one of them.”

“Ahh,” Arthur sighed as his laughter trailed away and he slumped back in his chair. He threaded his fingers through his hair and set a look upon Gwaine. “Truly, friend, what am I to do?”

“Well,” Gwaine said as he slapped his hands together and stood. “First thing’s first, we must get you proper lodgings that you can afford and I think I know just the place.”

“I can hardly live in a whorehouse,” Arthur said as he let Gwaine pull him to his feet. “And I doubt you know any other places.”

“Ah, see, your brilliant sense of humor is back. Things can’t possibly be all bad, can they?” Gwaine said cheerfully.

Arthur mumbled several decidedly uncheerful words at Gwaine’s back as he reluctantly followed him out of the club and into the streets of London.

 

~*~

 

“There are but two rooms,” Arthur said in a tone of confused complaint as he looked around the small compartment in the boarding house where Gwaine had led him.

“And you’re lucky, be glad it wasn’t but one room.”

“So I’m to pay actual money to live in what is essentially a box?” Arthur asked.

“This is hardly a box, sir,” the landlady began, her back rigid and her face turning a horrid shade of aubergine. Before Arthur could insult her any further Gwaine took her by the arm and led her toward the door.

“If you’d excuse us just a moment, madame, I’m sure we can come to an advantageous conclusion for all.” Once he’d gently pushed her out of the door and shut it behind her he turned to Arthur and said, “Hold your tongue, man. I know you want to be anywhere but here but here is where you are and you best come to terms with the fact that here is all you can afford now.”

Arthur dropped down into the chair by his side.

“I know, Gwaine, I’m sorry to have insulted Mrs. Fairchild. And yourself. You were kind to bring me here and I’m being nothing but ungrateful.”

“I expect nothing less from you.” Gwaine teased and Arthur managed a smile at that.

“I’m insufferable but endearing, admit it.”

“I admit nothing of the sort.”

Arthur laughed at that, but the laughter soon died out as he looked around him. The rooms were well appointed and clean, perhaps the rug was a bit threadbare in places but he could tell it had once been of quality. There was nothing wrong with the rooms, they were perfectly respectable, they simply weren’t Pendragon Hall, nor would they ever be. Arthur sighed.

“Tell Mrs. Fairchild I should like to take the rooms and that they are far superior to what I could have hoped for.”

“There’s the spirit, Arthur,” Gwaine said, ignoring the dejected tone of Arthur’s voice as he headed for the door to tell the disgruntled Mrs. Fairchild the good news.

Arthur was left alone in the rooms as Gwaine talked to Mrs. Fairchild and hopefully charmed her out of her snit. Arthur figured it best to let Gwaine flip his hair and smile his smile at her rather than go out and bollocks everything up himself. He had a feeling these rooms were the best to be had and it wouldn’t do to brew ill will between himself and his new landlady.

He had enough problems already.

 

~*~

 

A week passed and Arthur had moved in what meager belongings he could fit into his rooms. There were things he’d had to leave behind at Pendragon Hall that pained him to think about, but he had to let them go. It wasn’t like he would be able to let go of his past so easily, so cleanly, nothing close to that, but he’d come to realize that if he didn’t make some sort of effort to at least try he’d drive himself mad.

He’d managed to salvage a few pieces of his mother’s jewelry, things she had worn frequently and that held special meaning. Those pieces Arthur remembered her wearing as she’d pressed him close to her side. He’d also taken a few favored books and his father’s pocket watch. He may have been harboring deep anger toward his father at the moment but he knew that in time, once his anger had cooled, he would be upset to have nothing left of him at all.

Agravaine had given him but two days to remove himself from Pendragon Hall entirely once he’d found out the situation. The reality was quick and harsh and Arthur had had to suffer through it as best he could.

The one thing he’d mourned the lose of most keenly was his mother’s piano. He had sat for hours beside her as she played, the only moments in his young, busy little life that he’d ever sat still. He had begged her to teach him how to play and despite his father’s protests that he was too young and needn’t learn such a useless talent she’d done just that. His small, chubby fingers were horribly awkward and uncooperative but his mother always delighted in his playing, insisting he was a natural musician. Arthur’s fondest memory was of his mother placing her delicate hand over his heart and whispering in his ear that he had music in it, that it flowed through his veins and sprang from the tips of his fingers. He’d laughed and imagined the notes he was just learning to play springing forth from his fingertips like little black bugs.

His mother died when he was six but he never stopped playing and his father was left to find a proper music instructor for him or suffer the consequences of having a persistent six year old forever banging away at the piano. Arthur often wondered why his father hadn’t simply removed the piano but later on as he grew more and more proficient he’d seen the look in his father’s eyes when he would play and the quiet words, _’You sound just like your mother,’_ told him all he needed to know.

He’d been complaining of the loss of his piano to Gwaine one evening when Gwaine had given him a funny look and asked why he didn’t play the one at Mrs. Fairchild’s? Gwaine had laughed once he realized Arthur had been pouting in his rooms the entire week and hadn’t once bothered to explore the rest of the house beyond his small piece of it.

Arthur had felt idiotic at being caught acting so childish but he just hadn’t felt like taking meals with the rest of the tenants or going beyond the staircase that led him out of the house and into the world Gwaine dragged him through as if nothing had changed. But by then everything had changed, the story of his downfall had spread through the gossip mill like wildfire and Gwaine was one of the few that even bothered with him any longer. Arthur soon found out who his true friends were.

One thing Arthur was thankful for in all of the mess was the sudden absence of marriage minded mamas and their grasping offspring fawning all over him. He’d never wanted the attention nor any of the simpering misses that flung themselves in his path, his inclinations went in a far different direction, but he had known that eventually he’d have to marry and shut away any indelicate and shameful feelings he possessed. Now, however, he was free of weight of expectation and could do as he pleased.

And that realization took the unexpected shape of a tall, lanky fellow named Merlin.

 

~*~

 

“You should give music lessons,” Gwaine said as he sat in a chair across the room from Arthur and ordered him what to play. He was drinking from a flask he always kept stashed in his coat pocket and Arthur was giving him looks lest he get them both in trouble with Mrs. Fairchild.

“I’d be a dreadful music instructor. I have no patience.”

“You taught my niece to play last year and if you can show that little crab apple how to play without tossing her across the room I’d imagine you could deal with all sorts.”

“That was different,” Arthur said as he let his fingers run up and down the keys. “If she was terrible I knew I wouldn’t have to carry on with it. What if I got a pupil with the musical abilities of a goat?”

“Now, Arthur, don’t disparage goats.” Gwaine laughed as he took another swallow from his flask.

“Would you put that away, you’re going to get me thrown out of here. I don’t need my illustrious landlady thinking I carry on with wastrels.”

“You insult me.” Gwaine made a big, dramatic to-do over his supposed slight. “Play me something jaunty to make me less melancholy.”

Arthur just shook his head and smiled as he started to play a funeral dirge. Gwaine barked out a laugh.

“You’re the worst sort of friend.” he smiled. Arthur just nodded his agreement and went on to play something decidedly less funereal.

He momentarily lost himself to the music but soon the feeling of being watched by a second set of eyes came over him and he looked up toward the doorway. He abruptly stopped when he saw a pair of startlingly blue eyes staring back at him.

“Oh no, don’t stop,” the voice belonging to the eyes said the moment Arthur stopped playing. “It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. We never hear music around here, no one plays. In fact, it’s one of the great mysteries of the house. We all wonder how the winsome Mrs. F obtained such a lovely instrument when the sound of her playing is akin to cats in heat.”

The burst of laughter coming out of Gwaine at that pronouncement made Arthur jump. He was thankfully startled out of his staring long enough to laugh as well.

“Winsome, yes, the perfect word to describe Mrs. Fairchild.” Gwaine kept laughing.

“I’ve always thought so, especially when she turns that lovely shade of- .”

“Aubergine.” Arthur finished at the same time as the stranger making him grin.

“Ah yes, then you’ve experienced the glory.”

“We have indeed,” said Gwaine.

The stranger smiled warmly at Gwaine and then turned that same warm smile to Arthur. “You’re the new tenant, yes?”

Arthur nodded. For some reason he was inexplicably tongue tied.

“Merlin Everett,” the stranger said as he held out a hand to Arthur. When Arthur just sat there like a lump Gwaine got up from his chair to take Merlin’s hand instead.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Everett,” he began.

“Just Merlin, please, we needn’t stand on formalities here.” Merlin grinned again and Arthur suspected he’d never seen anything more charming.

“Too right,” Gwaine agreed. “I’m Gwaine and that giant mute occupying the piano bench is Arthur.”

“Arthur.” Merlin said the name slowly, like he was savouring it, and Arthur had never loved the sound of his own name quite so much. He was prepared to keep staring but Gwaine kicked him in the leg and it was enough to jostle him into motion.

“Sorry, yes,” he said as he held out his hand. “I’m Arthur.”

Arthur gasped a bit when Merlin’s hand slipped into his, his breath suddenly caught in his throat at the touch. He looked from their clasped hands up to Merlin’s face and felt a thrill run through him at the sight of a slight blush coloring Merlin’s cheeks. He looked just as flustered as Arthur felt, at least Arthur hoped it was that and not just Merlin being made uncomfortable by Arthur’s odd reaction to him.

They must have lingered a bit too long because Arthur heard Gwaine cough none too subtly and he felt Merlin quickly pull his hand away. Arthur was surprised at the sharp pain of loss that spiked through him at the sudden absence of Merlin’s touch.

“A song,” Merlin stuttered. “You must play us another song, Arthur.”

Arthur tried to pull his eyes away from the dark messy hair that was curling over the tops of Merlin’s ridiculous ears and the starched collar of his shirt long enough to focus on the piano keys under his fingers. He could feel the back of his neck heating up as he began to play.

Merlin sat through several more songs as he and Gwaine talked and Arthur attempted to act as if his world hadn’t suddenly tilted sideways. He didn’t know what was wrong with himself. Of course he’d known for quite some time his true preferences but he’d never reacted so keenly to another man before. It was throwing him decidedly off balance and he hoped it wasn’t painfully obvious, at least not to Merlin. From the way Gwaine had thrown laughing looks in his direction the entire time Merlin was in the room with them made it clear that Arthur’s predicament was obvious to him.

Gwaine also made a point of inviting Merlin to dine with them. When Merlin made to decline Gwaine assured him that it was his treat and Merlin had looked over in Arthur’s direction and happily agreed, thanking Gwaine most profusely in the process.

Although Arthur had been at first ready to throttle Gwaine for putting him in the troubling predicament of trying not to make a fool of himself in front of Merlin by the end of the meal he was happy for Gwaine’s meddling. Through Gwaine’s persistent questioning and inherent nosiness, honestly, Arthur thought Gwaine would make a first class busybody, Arthur learned all sorts of interesting things about Merlin.

He was from a small town in the north and had moved to London to work with his uncle in his chemist shop, said chemist shop being just round the corner from their boarding house, he was an only child, liked horses and wine but drew the line at giving horses wine - Arthur had delighted in hearing Merlin’s amused laughter at the telling of that story - was an avid reader and was excessively fond of music that didn’t sound like fornicating cats. Arthur also learned things Merlin didn’t tell them outright. He learned he liked the sound of Merlin’s voice, his laughter even more so, the fact that Merlin ate more than himself and Gwaine combined, and the beauty of his hands.

After Merlin reluctantly said his goodbyes to Arthur and Gwaine at the end of evening Gwaine had looked at Arthur as he watched Merlin walk away from them and declared with a knowing laugh,

“Oh, Arthur, there’s not a hope in the world for you, is there?”

 

~*~

 

After that night Arthur made sure to take meals with the other tenants as Merlin had remarked that the night with Gwaine and Arthur had been a nice change of scenery from his typical meals at Mrs. F’s. Arthur was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the offered fare, although he wasn’t entirely sure he actually tasted any of it since he usually spent the duration of the meal either staring at Merlin or engaging him in conversation. He could have been eating a plate of onions for all he would have noticed.

Gwaine had been absolutely right that night. Once he began spending time with Merlin there was no hope for him at all. He was well and truly charmed and didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it. At times he suspected that maybe Merlin might feel the same but there wasn’t enough solid proof to risk saying something or to give Merlin any sort of indication of his own feelings.

And it tortured him in ways he hadn’t known existed.

He’d taken to playing for the tenants at night after dinner and Merlin would often volunteer to sit by his side and turn the sheet music for him. Arthur never once told Merlin he didn’t actually need the sheet music at all - his mother had been right all those years ago, the music was a part of him and a song once played took up residence in his blood and he had no need of looking at the notes for it ever again - but he loved the feel of Merlin sitting beside him on the bench too much to admit the pointlessness of Merlin’s endeavors. Merlin had no musical sense whatsoever and Arthur would often nod for him to turn a page more frequently than was necessary just so he could feel Merlin lean against him and look upon his pleased smile when he’d done his job properly.

He played prelude and etudes, sonatas and suites, everything he could think of to make Merlin happy but if it had been up to him he would have played only rhapsodies. Note upon note falling from his fingers with no boundaries at all but that they all belonged to Merlin.

“All the music you play is so perfect,” Merlin said one night as he sat at the piano and dropped his fingers against the keys producing several plonking notes. “Who taught you?”

“My mother.”

Merlin smiled to himself. “I suspected as much, you play with such love.” He looked over at Arthur who was sitting in a chair to his left. “Do you play together often?”

Arthur shook his head and returned Merlin’s gaze. It was late and they were the last ones still awake. Mrs. Fairchild had turned down all the lamps long before with an admonition to them that they’d best turn them off all the way when they deigned to go to bed themselves. Arthur could hardly see Merlin in the dim light and it somehow made it easier.

“Only in my mind,” he answered.

Merlin’s fingers kept playing with the keys and though the notes were awkward Arthur found them pleasing in a disjointed way.

“Does she live very far away?”

“She died,” Arthur said. “Long ago.”

Merlin’s fingers stopped playing then. “Oh, Arthur, I’m so sorry. I’d never had said anything- .”

“And how were you to know? It isn’t any fault of your own and no apologies are needed.”

“Still.” Merlin’s eyes locked with his in the dim light. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“I believe that you are,” Arthur said and he saw a softness come over Merlin’s face. “Thank you,” he added quietly.

“My father died when I was quite young. I don’t remember much about him, but I remember I loved him.”

“That’s the best memory of all.”

Merlin nodded. “It is,” he said as he once again placed his fingers on the piano keys, though he didn’t press down hard enough to play any of them. It was like he couldn’t stop touching them and Arthur was fascinated by the way they looked, long and slim and unknown, against the familiar home of his piano keys. Arthur wanted to kneel beside Merlin and press kisses against each one of those fingers.

Merlin must have noticed Arthur staring at his fingers because he said suddenly, “I can’t stop touching them, the keys. It’s like I can feel your fingers playing underneath my own.”

Arthur swallowed and felt his heart pound in his chest. He was about to say, _’because they play for you.’_ when Merlin jumped to his feet making a terrible racket as the piano bench scuttled away from him.

“Such a silly thing to say,” he said in a rush and Arthur watched his heated cheeks, clearly red even in the dim light. “I’ve had too much wine again. I say such odd things after drinking wine. Arthur, you really must tell Gwaine to stop sending bottles to me.”

Arthur opened his mouth to respond but no words came out so he simply nodded that he would.

“I think it best I call it a night,” Merlin continued to rattle on as he fidgeted with his cuffs.

“I think I will as well,” Arthur said as he stood to leave with Merlin. Arthur thought he could hear Merlin inhale sharply when he started to walk toward him.

“Goodnight then, Arthur,” Merlin said right before he all but ran from the room.

Arthur watched him hurry away as he let his fingers slowly drag along the piano keys still warm from Merlin’s touch.

 

~*~

 

“I have two students,” Arthur called out to Merlin the moment he passed by the front parlour door.

Merlin stopped and turned a brilliant smile on him. “That’s wonderful news, Arthur. Are you excited?” he asked as he walked into the room and took the chair closest to Arthur.

Arthur laughed. “Hardly. They’re rather shocking reminders of my fall from grace.”

“Arthur.” Merlin frowned. Arthur had told him about the loss of his lands and estate, and the sorry state he was left in after his father’s death. Merlin had been sympathetic but once Arthur was done telling his story he’d asked if maybe Arthur might think of it all as a blessing in disguise. Arthur must have looked at him like he’d said the most foolish thing in the world but Merlin had said that now Arthur’s life was down to the things that mattered and the friends that stayed beside him. Arthur had teased Merlin that it had brought him into his circle of friends as well and he’d delighted in the blush that spread across Merlin’s face and his stuttering words of thanks afterward.

“Yes, I know, be thankful for what I have,” Arthur recited.

“You make me sound like a nagging fishwife.” Merlin laughed.

“But a wise fishwife.” Arthur smiled.

“Well as long as I’m wise.”

“How about a game of chess?” Arthur asked when Merlin looked as if he were about to rise to leave.

“You do realize you’ll never beat me, no matter how many games we play.” Merlin teased but he got up to fetch the small table in the corner that held the chess board. He set it in front of Arthur and pulled his own chair closer.

“Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment.” Arthur watched Merlin smile to himself as he arranged the chess pieces.

“Tell me about your students,” Merlin said as he settled his elbows on his knees and contemplated his first move.

Arthur laughed. “A strange pair to be sure; one a ten year old and another a young heiress.”

“How did you ever acquire a young heiress?”

“Elena? She is an acquaintance from my former life, one that actually doesn’t mind still associating with me. Of course El was never one for social proprieties.”

“El?” Merlin’s voice was quiet. “You two must be close.”

“We get along well, she’s a top notch girl. She used to go riding with Gwaine and me, she has an excellent seat. Absolutely fearless.”

“She sounds lovely.” Arthur watched as Merlin made an characteristically terrible move. “Is she very pretty?”

“She’s considered a great beauty,” Arthur said, his eyes focused on Merlin’s reaction.

“Oh.” He looked miserable at the news.

“When she decides to comb her hair at least,” Arthur added, taking pity on Merlin. He couldn’t help the bright smile that crossed his face.

“What?” Merlin looked up in confusion.

“For all of her money and title she’s considered quite eccentric. She’s tolerated because she’s daughter to an Earl. But she isn’t what one would call typical.”

Merlin looked thoughtful but didn’t press the matter. They played in silence for a while and Merlin made up for his poor move during their brief conversation about Elena. Arthur knew Merlin was right, he’d never manage to beat him at chess. Even out of sorts he still managed to have Arthur worked into a corner.

“I should take lessons from you,” Merlin said, finally breaking the silence of their game.

“But you’re a horrible player. By your own admittance.” Arthur laughed.

“I’m sure that’s because I never had a proper instructor.” Merlin grinned at Arthur and added, “Or a lesson of any kind.”

Arthur laughed even more. “Yes, I’d suspect that had something to do with it.” Arthur made a move then turned his attention back to Merlin. “I’d take you on as a student if you really wanted to learn.”

Merlin shook his head. “No, it’s probably best I not inflict the world with my playing. I should think I’d sound much like Mrs. F if I’d ever try to play properly.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Arthur said as he reached out and tapped Merlin’s fingers. “I have a feeling that I could teach even a clumsy clot such as yourself to play.”

“A high opinion of yourself indeed.”

Arthur simply smiled and returned his attention back to the chess game. They again played in silence for a while before Merlin spoke again.

“I think I should just like to listen to you play,” he said. “I’d only really want lessons as a reason to spend time with you. I fear I’m a bit jealous of your pupils and all the time they’ll have with you.”

“Merlin, you- .”

“Who will I give a sound trouncing to at chess if not for you?” Merlin hastened to speak over Arthur’s words.

Arthur frowned, frustrated at Merlin’s interruption. He always did that, said something that made Arthur hopeful but was quick to add something that never failed to jilt his heart to a sudden and painful stop.

“You should come out with Gwaine and I more often,” Arthur said instead.

“I hate to abuse his generosity.”

Arthur waved him away. “You’re hardly abusing it. He likes tossing his money about and the small amount he’s tossed in your direction so far is merely a pittance compared to what he’s wasted in his life. Better it go to you than to the gaming tables.”

Merlin laughed. “I can hardly believe Gwaine is unlucky at the tables.”

“He’s the worst, simply the worst,” Arthur said. “All he has to do is walk past a gaming hell and he loses money. It just disappears from his pockets. Like that.” Arthur snapped his fingers. “And the worst part of it is he’s always so jolly about it. Couldn’t care less. He always says that surely the person he lost to will take just as proper care of the money as he would.”

“Gwaine is a good sort, isn’t he?” Merlin asked.

“The best.” Arthur nodded in agreement. “A true friend.”

“I. I should like to be that for you,” Merlin said quietly. “A friend.”

“You already are, Merlin.”

“Yes?” There was a catch in Merlin’s voice that made Arthur’s hands clench in his lap. “I was hoping- . Ever since I met you, and Gwaine, of course Gwaine as well- “ Arthur squeezed his hands to keep them from reaching out and grasping Merlin’s hand and shaking the words he wanted to hear out of him. None of this talk of Gwaine, Arthur wanted to hear his name, and his alone, uttered from Merlin’s mouth.

“I’ve just felt,” Merlin continued, seemingly unaware of Arthur sitting across from him clasping his hands in his lap and staring intently at him, “we were meant to be friends. Have you ever felt that for someone, Arthur? Someone you meet and feel instantly, right from the very core of you, that you were meant to know one another?”

“Yes.” Arthur felt like he was shouting, like he was about to spring forward out of his chair and crawl across the table to Merlin. “Yes.” He said more calmly, taking a breath. “I felt that way about you. Like a shock to my system.”

“It’s a wonderful thing to find a friend that way,” Merlin said. “Arthur, I- .”

“When will you learn not to challenge Merlin to a game of chess?” Gwaine’s voice came from the doorway and Arthur wanted to curse his friend in that moment though he’d just been singing his praises.

Merlin, flushed pink from their conversation, looked as though he were trying to settle his features back in place before he turned to address Gwaine. Arthur watched him take a quick breath before speaking.

“Arthur’s told me he’s a glutton for punishment.” Merlin smiled up at Gwaine.

“Well he must be seeing as how he’s taken El on as a piano student. Didn’t she make her last instructor cry?” Gwaine winked at Arthur.

“At least give her some credit,” Arthur said as he stood and tugged at the sleeves of his coat. “He cried because she dropped the piano bench on his foot, not because her playing is atrocious.”

Gwaine looked at Merlin and raised an eyebrow. “Why exactly El was toting around a piano bench is still a great mystery.”

Arthur waved his hand at Gwaine. “Why El does anything she does is a great mystery.”

“Which is part and parcel of what makes her so appealing. Isn’t it, Arthur?”

Arthur rolled his eyes at Gwaine and moved to put the chess table back in the corner.

“Arthur is quite in love with Elena,” Gwaine stage whispered to Merlin. “Aren’t you, Arthur?”

“I’m nothing of the sort.” Arthur scowled at Gwaine and turned his eyes on Merlin who was looking a bit pale and small sitting in his chair. “I’m not in love with her,” he said to Merlin specifically. “Gwaine is being an unmitigated ass because _he’s_ actually the one in love with her.”

“But my love shall be forever thwarted because Elena will have nothing to do with me when Arthur is near.”

“You know that isn’t so,” Arthur said to Gwaine and Merlin looked back and forth between the two of them. “She thought herself in love with me when she was fifteen. She’s grown a sight more sensible since then.”

“But only just. She’s still dazzlingly naive with barely the sense God gave her. In other words,” Gwaine looked down at Merlin and smiled. “She’s absolutely wonderful.”

“You make her sound like an imbecile,” Arthur said.

“Hardly. Though if she were one I’d still kneel at her feet and kiss her lovely little imbecilic toes.”

Arthur gave Gwaine a fond smile and shoved at his shoulder.

“Come, Merlin,” Gwaine said as he reached down and grabbed his hands to pull him to his feet. “Join us for the evening and you can hear even more about my beautifully gauche little buttercup.”

Merlin laughed. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, aren’t you?”

“I’m in love.” Gwaine answered. “What _isn’t_ ridiculous about love?”

“I’ve found love to be confusing and dreadful,” Merlin said, quietly serious.

“Then surely you’re not doing it right at all,” Gwaine said as he threw an arm around Merlin’s shoulder and Arthur envied him his easy physicality with him. Arthur ached to touch Merlin but knew not how to do it, how to make it appear as casual and thoughtless as Gwaine. “Love is splendid, Merlin. The greatest thing in the world.”

“Not when you’re unsure the one you love loves you back, or even cares for you at all in that way. You’re hopeful, but you’re never quite sure and that uncertainty twists you up inside.”

Gwaine slapped Merlin on the back. “So melancholy. You need a drink, Merlin, post haste.”

“I’m with Merlin. Love makes you ache.” Arthur found himself breaking into the conversation and speaking with an intensity that would embarrass him if he were able to think properly. Merlin peered at him from Gwaine’s side, his eyes wide and intent.

Arthur was so focused on returning Merlin’s stare that he failed to notice Gwaine looking back and forth between the two of them. He was only brought about when Gwaine reached out and grabbed the back of his neck to give him a bit of a shake and pull him closer to himself and Merlin.

“It makes you ache because it’s worth it,” he said to Arthur as he gave the back of his neck another squeeze. “It’s the splendour and the ache of it that keeps us alive.”

Arthur felt dizzy suddenly. The weight of the moment seemed to press down upon him and he needed to step back away from Gwaine to breathe again.

“You’ve been into the drink before the evening has even begun,” Arthur managed to struggle out in a halfway teasing tone. “Admit it, Gwaine.”

“Of course I have.” Gwaine laughed as he let the two of them go and headed toward the door. “What good is wine, Arthur, if it’s not consumed?”

Gwaine’s laughter seemed to pull Merlin out of his trance. He blinked owlishly but managed to gather himself enough to call out a retort to Gwaine.

“That’s a horrible excuse.”

“But it _is_ an excuse.” Gwaine replied. “Now come, gentlemen. The night is young; we must drink more and Merlin must hear about the time Elena drank an entire carafe of Madeira because she thought it was punch and spent the evening flirting with a pillar, the precious girl.”

Merlin laughed and followed Gwaine but as they walked to Gwaine’s awaiting coach he kept looking over at Arthur with a look in his eyes Arthur wasn’t sure how to decipher.

 

~*~

“You know the two of you have the run of the estate while you’re here,” Gwaine said as he led them to the stables. “I’ve already informed the servants so there’s no excuse for you not to take advantage of my generosity.”

Arthur laughed when Gwaine looked back over his shoulder and added, with emphasis, “ _Merlin._ ”

“Why am I getting singled out?” Merlin asked.

“Because Arthur is an entitled arse and will take advantage without having to be told,” Gwaine answered.

“I also know that if I don’t take advantage Gwaine will keep bringing up his generosity because he’s the least subtle person I know.”

Gwaine laughed off Arthur’s words and said to Merlin, “Do you ride? I can get the horses saddled up and we can take them out.”

“I do ride, but poorly,” Merlin answered.

“I can saddle Captain for you. He’s a slow, lazy thing, completely docile, but he’s smart too. You hardly need do a thing to ride him.”

“I haven’t any riding clothes.”

“We don’t stand on ceremony here. You could go riding in petticoats and Gwaine would only encourage you,” Arthur said.

“Well I haven’t any petticoats either.” Merlin laughed.

“More’s the pity,” Gwaine said. “I’d love to see it.”

“Come, Merlin, let’s have a ride. Gwaine will only keep nattering on if you don’t,” Arthur said. “And I know you want to, I can tell by looking at you.”

Merlin smiled at Arthur, shyly, like they shared a secret and it made Arthur warm.

“Yes,” Merlin said as he nodded and smiled even wider. “Let’s ride.”

Gwaine slapped Merlin on the back and said, “Good man,” before heading into the stables.

“I’m really just doing it to stop Gwaine from nattering on,” Merlin said to Arthur with mock seriousness. His laughter joined Arthur’s when he threw his head back and laughed at Merlin’s words.

 

~*~

 

Arthur rowed them aimlessly around the pond. They were there under the pretense of fishing, which Gwaine had all but ordered them to do when he had to leave them for a few hours to attend to an errand in the nearby village, but they’d long since abandoned their poles when it was obvious Merlin had little to no talent at the sport.

“I never said I was an expert,” Merlin had laughingly told Arthur when he’d taken Merlin’s fishing pole from him before he did himself a damage.

“I thought you would at least be able to manage to get your hook in the water.” Arthur had said, giving Merlin an appalled and disappointed look. He’d chuckled to himself though when Merlin gave his shoulder a push.

They set their fishing poles to the side and fell into easy conversation as Merlin sat in the bow and watched Arthur as he lazily rowed them around.

“You miss this, don’t you?” Merlin asked.

“Miss what?”

“Having all of this. Seeing you ride this morning and now, here, in this place, I realize how much you’ve lost.” Merlin looked away from Arthur and out to the water. “And how much you belong here, far away from where you are.”

Merlin’s voiced trailed off but Arthur felt he stopped himself from adding, _’far away from me and the world I live in.’_

“I do miss it,” Arthur said. “I’d be lying if I claimed differently. In the beginning I fought so hard to figure out a way to get it all back. I’m sure I drove my solicitor mad.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been, must still be, for you to have to give it up and live so lowly.”

Arthur knew what Merlin was implying but not saying.

“You don’t live lowly, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly. “And I don’t grieve for my former life because it meant ease and luxury, I grieve for the people in our employ because my father should have done better by them. My uncle is a harsh man and it pains me to know they’re at his mercy.”

Merlin finally turned away from the water to look back at Arthur. “You’re a good man, Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head. “Not good enough. If I had been a better man I wold have been less selfish, less involved in my time on the continent, and realized the trouble my father was bringing upon our family.”

“You couldn’t have known, Arthur. You do yourself no favors by believing otherwise.”

“You think too highly of me.” Arthur said, a half-hearted smile on his face. “You obviously haven’t been listening to Gwaine.”

“Don’t be self-effacing, it doesn’t suit you. You well know Gwaine would agree with my assessment.”

“Because he’s simple-minded. He doesn’t know any better.”

Merlin laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

“Be my guest.” Arthur smiled genuinely. “He’d only laugh and call me an ill-tempered ass.”

“That he would.” Merlin chuckled in agreement.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Arthur savored the time alone with Merlin, the day was fine and he wanted to tell Merlin how beautiful he looked; relaxed and languid in the sun.

“You’re still fighting for your inheritance, aren’t you? You’ve hardly given up,” Merlin said, breaking the quiet between them.

“No, I haven’t. Gwaine is involved now as well, he couldn’t suffer my solicitor’s incompetence any longer and offered me the use of his own. The man has given me a spark of hope.”

“You’ll succeed one day. You’ll have it all back.”

“Such certainty.”

“I have faith in you, Arthur,” Merlin said quietly as he looked back out onto the water.

All Arthur could do was stare Merlin’s profile and say an equally quiet, “Thank you,” in return.

 

 

~*~

 

Arthur’s lessons went surprisingly well. At least with the ten year old, Elena, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether.

It wasn’t that she was a poor player, once she put her mind to it she could play quite well, it’s just that she was a poor _student_. She’d laugh every time Arthur would try to position her fingers, she squirmed around on the bench enough to nearly knock Arthur off of it several times within the span on a single lesson, and she insisted on spending nearly three-quarters of every lesson either making faces or talking about horses.

“Oh, we’ll get to that later.” was always her response whenever Arthur tried to get her to actually play the piano.

Not that Arthur didn’t find their lessons enjoyable, because they were, it’s just that they never really accomplished much of anything. This didn’t seem to bother Elena in the least since it simply meant more lessons and more gossip time with Arthur. Although Arthur really didn’t consider Elena’s story on how far she could spit as being gossip.

She was also bored silly by Beethoven, Mozart and Chopin. She thought Liszt dull and Rachmaninoff pompous. All she wanted to do was play ragtime. Her father had taken her to America and it was all she could talk about. Arthur couldn’t get her to play anything properly until he let her bang away on the keys a ragtime tune or two.

Arthur happened to love the raucousness of ragtime and would happily play it with Elena, she got such utter joy from it, but he knew her love for it would just be added to the long list of all the other improper things she already did. Society watched each other like hawks, but none more so than those that seemingly didn’t care. Elena had never given a fig what anyone thought of her and appeared to be immune to the barely whispered words spoken behind her back which only made the gossipy old biddies even more scandalized. Arthur didn’t want to lend any fuel to their fire, but Elena had a way about her that made one want to please her so more often than not Arthur found himself playing right along beside her.

Merlin had stumbled across one of their more spirited lessons just as Elena had been grappling with him over a pile of sheet music. She’d wanted to toss it out the window and Arthur had wanted her to play it. They’d come to an impasse and the result, which so often was the case with Elena, was an out and out fight. Merlin had happened by the parlour door just as Arthur found himself with a lap full of Elena and a face full of her bosom which she had smashed up against him in an effort to reach the sheet music Arthur was trying to hold out of her reach above his head.

The shocked look on Merlin’s face was enough to make Arthur shove Elena from his lap. She ended up in a laughing pile at his feet as he struggled to stand up and straighten himself. Merlin appeared to be frozen in place as he hadn’t moved a muscle since having first come upon them.

“It’s not how it looks,” Arthur choked out.

“Oh, hello, you,” Elena said from the floor as she pushed a pile of disarrayed hair out of her face. “You must be Merlin.”

“We were fighting. Over the sheet music.” Arthur kept stammering at Merlin as he stood there and Elena clambered to her feet to go shake his hand.

“I’m Elena,” she said as she shoved her hand out at Merlin who managed to tear his eyes away from Arthur long enough to look at her and take her hand. “I’m Arthur’s wayward student. He wants me to play Chopin, can you imagine?” Elena continued to rattle on as she vigorously shook Merlin’s hand.

“Elena’s a horrible student,” Arthur said.

“Hardly,” Elena scoffed. “What does he expect when he asks me to play _Chopin_. I might as well take a nap. Don’t you agree, Merlin?”

Merlin didn’t answer right away so Arthur did it for him. “Merlin loves Chopin,” he told Elena as he searched Merlin’s eyes for recognition of the rainy afternoon he’d spent playing for Merlin. Merlin had dropped down into the chair nearest Arthur and bemoaned the dreariness of the day and asked if he would, _’Play all the Chopin in the world for me, Arthur. Please. It’s the only thing that could make this day bearable.’_ and Arthur had. For hours. Merlin had returned the favor by reading the newest installment of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ aloud to Arthur from his copy of _The Strand_. Arthur couldn’t remember having spent a better afternoon in his life.

“Oh, do you really?” Elena frowned. “I always shove my foot in it. I’m terribly sorry. You can like Chopin if you want, I won’t hold it against you.”

In any other instance Arthur would have laughed at Elena and her poorly chosen words, but he was too worried about why Merlin hadn’t said a word during the entire exchange.

“He truly loves Chopin,” Arthur said quietly, not to Elena, but to Merlin. “As do I.”

Elena shrugged. “Oh well, if you insist. You’re lovely anyway, Merlin, I can tell,” she said as she gave Merlin a quick kiss on the cheek that made him jump. She didn’t seem to notice the strange feeling that had taken over the room since Merlin’s arrival - and that he hadn’t said a word to her himself - because she traipsed back to the piano and plopped herself down on the bench. “Ah ha!” she said as she pulled several pages of folded, mangled paper out of the front of her dress. “I win! I can play what _I_ want.”

Arthur left Elena to it as she sat smoothing her music out and arranging herself to play, he instead kept his eyes latched onto Merlin.

“She’s like my sister,” he said, and he knew he sounded silly but didn’t know what else to say. “We tussle all the time.”

Merlin turned his gaze from Arthur to where Elena was sitting at the piano.

“She’s very lovely,” he said quietly, finally breaking his silence.

Arthur couldn’t exactly argue the point as Elena did look particularly lovely sitting all pink and flushed with triumph at the piano, half of her hair tumbling down her back and glowing golden in the afternoon sun.

“She is, but in a sisterly way,” Arthur was quick to try to explain. “Merlin, I don’t feel for her- .”

“I imagine the two of you look particularly beautiful together, side by side.” Merlin interrupted him. His voice was thoughtful but sounded very far away and Arthur wanted to go running after it to fetch it back against his heart where it belonged.

“There was a time when our fathers thought- .” Arthur said, then shook his head. “But nothing ever came of it. At first El thought herself in love, but then Gwaine came along. She’s in love with Gwaine.” Arthur blurted that last part out a bit too loudly and he cringed.

“Is she?” Merlin asked, his eyes turned back to Arthur’s.

“She is, and he with her - as he told you the other night.” Arthur decided he hated how desperate his voice sounded. He wished he didn’t have to beg to be believed, that Merlin would just _know_.

“They’re very fortunate then, are they not? To be in love with a person who loves them back?” Merlin asked.

“Very fortunate,” Arthur agreed. He found himself beginning to reach out for Merlin’s hand but his fingers were left reaching for nothing but air as Merlin took a step back from him.

“I should let you get back to your lesson, I’ve wasted enough of your time,” he said as he took another step back before quickly turning on his heels and rushing toward the stairs.

Arthur was going to follow him but decided against it. He had already proven he couldn’t say a sensible thing to save his life so thought it best not to continue the conversation and embarrass himself, or embarrass them both, any further.

He went back to Elena who was on her feet and playing away. He had to smile to himself a bit at that, she couldn’t even sit still when she played. He tried to get swept up in the moment when she smiled up at him and it wasn’t until a few songs later when Gwaine showed up to escort Elena home that he could muster it.

“I can hear your dulcet tunes from the street,” Gwaine teased as he walked into the room.

“I’m playing ragtime,” Elena enthusiastically shouted over the racket of the piano, her eyes sparkling up at him.

“And so you are, my darling.” Gwaine’s return smile was brilliant and a look of pure infatuation crossed his face as he admired Elena clanging away at the piano.

Gwaine stood by Elena’s side and kept trying to poke at the keys as she laughed and shoved him away with a bump of her hips. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh with them and join Elena on her other side. Gwaine made a show of pouting when Elena allowed Arthur to play along with her and the pathetically fake pout on Gwaine’s face only made them laugh more.

They had just finished playing and Elena was kissing Arthur goodbye when Merlin appeared again in the doorway. Arthur wanted to damn his luck and Merlin’s ill timing, but at least this time Merlin didn’t stay frozen in the doorway.

He startled at first to see Elena with her arms once again flung around Arthur, and Arthur noticed he looked rather harried and flushed as though with fever. His hair, not anywhere near neat and tidy at the best of times, was particularly wild. It looked like he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. Arthur didn’t know what to make of him at all.

“Merlin!” Elena called out. “We see you again, how lucky for us. Perhaps you’ll come talk to us this time.”

“Merlin’s a great talker,” Gwaine said.

“Really? He seemed awfully shy when he popped in before,” Elena replied.

Gwaine and Elena continued to talk about whether or not Merlin was shy, but Arthur didn’t join them. He watched as Merlin tried to look as if he were paying attention to them but he was fidgeting and looking about the room. He finally made himself busy and went over to straighten up the pile of sheet music Arthur and Elena had been fighting over earlier. Arthur had abandoned it on a side table and now Arthur watched as Merlin shuffled the sheets together and stacked them up neatly.

“I’m not shy,” he said out of the blue, and quite loudly, as he turned away from the table and looked back at the rest of them. He seemed to realize how he’d sounded so he took a breath and calmed his voice. “I mean to say that Gwaine is correct, I’m usually not shy. You simply caught me at a bad time, my Lady.”

“My Lady?” Elena cackled in delight. “Oh, you’re a dear. It’s Elena, please. If you call me anything else it’s likely I won’t respond. Titles bore me.”

“Spoken as only a person blessed with a title could,” Arthur lightly teased Elena.

Arthur received a slap to his arm for making fun and Gwaine chuckled at the attack which only earned him a slap of his own. Gwaine kept laughing, however, because despite the slap Elena slipped her hand into the crook of Gwaine’s arm and pressed herself against his side.

“Ignore these two,” Elena said to Merlin. “They act like a pair of foolish boys when they’re together. Although I’m sure you’ve already witnessed it yourself. It seems you spend a great deal of time gallivanting about town together, Arthur simply won’t stop talking about you. It’s the sweetest thing.”

“Elena, honestly,” Arthur hissed at her as Gwaine barked out another laugh at Arthur’s expense.

“He talks about me?” Merlin asked. He seemed to brighten suddenly at the news and Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes from him.

“All the time. I haven’t heard him so smitten over anything since he purchased that horse from the Duke of whatsit- .” Elena waved her hand around in front of her. “Hell’s bells, I always forget. What’s Bertie’s title again, Goose?” Elena asked as she looked up at Gwaine.

“Goose?” Merlin asked, his smile nearly bursting off his face.

“Oh, you know how he sounds when he gets to laughing. If he laughs anywhere near a pond I’m always afraid we’ll have a trail of goslings following us home. They’re quite darling, but I don’t want them as pets. They make such a mess when they’re fully grown.”

“Whereas Elena’s laugh is nothing short of melodious. When she snorts I liken it to a choir of heavenly angels. I become absolutely rapturous when I hear it.” Gwaine said.

“Silly boy,” Elena said fondly as she pulled on Gwaine’s arm. “Time to dash or my father will wonder where we’ve gotten ourselves off to. Arthur, you’re meeting us later at Devlin’s?”

“All those wagging tongues, the whispering behind my back, and trying to make last season’s coat look fashionable because I haven’t the funds for a new one? Wouldn’t miss it. Sounds divine.”

“Arthur,” Elena admonished. “You’re better than that. And if it’s that much of a worry for you wear something of Goose’s. I’m sure you’ll find something suitable, he has more clothes than I do.”

“You should come along, Merlin,” Gwaine said. “If I’m to dig up something for Arthur to wear I could certainly find something for you as well. Fredricks is a genius with needle and thread, he could make it look as though it were made especially for you quicker than you could blink.”

“Of course Arthur is always such an unsociable grump you most likely wouldn’t have any fun at all. He’d probably use you as a human shield to stave off all the little misses that simper around him waiting with bated breath to be asked to dance.” Elena said.

“I should imagine someone like Arthur would indeed have many willing partners,” Merlin said.

“Ha,” Arthur laughed uncharitably. “That would hardly be the case now, would it? I doubt I’ll be bothered by a single set of fluttering eyelashes this evening.”

“You’ll be fine, Arthur,” Merlin said as he laid his hand on Arthur’s arm. Arthur felt a jolt run through him and he wanted to turn his arm over and let Merlin’s hand slide down the inside of it until he was able to catch his hand up in his own. “And perhaps,” Merlin continued, “when you come home you could play a bit of Chopin?”

Arthur wondered at the tone of Merlin’s voice; it was an odd mixture of hopeful and nervous, and he noticed how Merlin’s eyes drifted over to the pile of sheet music before coming back to meet his own.

“Perhaps,” Arthur said quietly, and he watched as Merlin’s skin began to take on that same flushed hue as it had worn when he’d first burst back into the room.

“Chopin,” Elena huffed. “Well that would certainly put him to sleep.”

Gwaine laughed at her disgusted face. “Oh my darling, you’re a most wonderful little heathen.” Gwaine took Elena’s hand in his and tugged her toward the door as he addressed Merlin. “If you decide to join us just come round with Arthur and we’ll let Fredricks at you.”

“You’ll be absolutely dashing,” Elena smiled at him. “All that dark, wild hair and one of Goose’s suits? I might just steal you away from Arthur myself.”

Arthur felt as if his face were aflame and Merlin nearly choked in surprise. “I’m not- . I’m not Arthur’s,” he managed to stammer.

Elena waved her hand around. “Oh, you know what I mean. All the ladies will want to drag you off for a dance and Arthur will be left to pout alone in a corner.”

Merlin was still stammering. saying something about not being a very good dancer as Gwaine dragged Elena out the door to his awaiting carriage. Elena told Merlin to never mind that and then promptly started ordering Gwaine to get a proper pair of horses as the ones attached to his carriage looked like they might die on the way home.

Once a chattering Elena was bundled up into the carriage and her and Gwaine were off Arthur was left standing on the front stoop with a bright red Merlin. Arthur was fairly certain his own face matched Merlin’s. Arthur fiddled with his cuffs and tried to calm the beating of his heart.

“Will you join us?” he was finally able to get out.

Merlin, looking a bit dazed, turned to him and said, “No, not this time, Arthur. I doubt I’d be welcomed at such a place.”

“No more so than I,” Arthur said.

“You’ll be fine,” Merlin said again. “Be brave, Arthur. Show them you’re more than their gossip.”

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes and saw true and absolute belief in him. It sent a warm thrill through him “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Something dreadful, surely. First all your money and lands gone and now me? Bad luck, indeed, Arthur.” Merlin tried to laugh lightheartedly but it rang false.

“Hardly bad luck,” Arthur said as he kept his gaze focused on Merlin. “I’d say it’s quite the opposite, actually.”

Merlin shook his head slightly and looked away, like he was trying to dismiss Arthur’s sentiment.

“I should go,” Merlin said, but he looked back at Arthur again before he left. “You’ll make it through tonight, Arthur. I know you will.”

“And if I don’t,” Arthur smiled at Merlin. “I’ll just play Chopin.”

Merlin shyly returned the smile. “I love it when you play Chopin.”

 

~*~

 

Arthur stormed through the front door of the house and headed straight for the parlour. He nearly flung himself onto the piano bench and was absolutely prepared to play out all of his frustrations but the moment he set his hands on the keys he couldn’t play a note. He was only reminded of playing with his mother on her piano and all that he had lost and his anger only grew. Instead of playing he got up and snatched the pile of sheet music he’d left on the table and headed for his rooms. He wasn’t fit for anything but getting horribly drunk. Alone.

Devlin’s had been an utter disaster. Arthur had tried to keep his head held high, tried to be the brave person Merlin thought him, but it didn’t work. Even with Elena and Gwaine on each side of him to act as buffers the night was a disaster from start to finish.

The second he walked into the room and his name was announced all conversation stopped. The sudden silence felt quite like the most wretched screeching imaginable in his ears. Why Arthur had ever thought silence was quiet was beyond his comprehension. And after the silence? A sudden surge of voices all speaking at once and all speculating on the fall of Lord Pendragon. Some thought it an utter shame while others felt Arthur had had it coming and his distress was like the most delicious of desserts in their mouths.

Arthur wasn’t sure who he despised more; those who pitied him, or those that took such glee in his plight.

He’d spent the entire evening trying to ignore the talking and pushing Elena and Gwaine away from him. He kept insisting to them he was fine, though neither one believed him in the least - and god bless them, they tried their best to make the night bearable - both had been so sure he’d make it through that he didn’t want to disappoint them. Plus he hadn’t wanted Elena to suffer any more gossip because of him than she already did. Both had long been considered eccentric but Elena, being a woman, suffered the brunt of the disparaging gossip much more than Gwaine ever did.

When his uncle, Agravaine, had made an appearance late into the night Arthur had given up all pretense of calmness and civility. He shuddered to think of the scene he had made as he ordered Agravaine to speak with him in private and was quite soundly denied. His face had flamed red and his anger grew by leaps and bounds. It was only Elena’s hand on his arm that kept him from striking out at Agravaine. Gwaine had pressed a drink into his hand and whispered into his ear, words he didn’t hear but seemed to calm him just enough to get him out of Devlin’s and on his way home.

Despite his desire to stomp up the stairs and slam his door shut Arthur did his best to make his way to his rooms relatively quietly. He must not have been as quiet as he thought because Merlin’s head popped out of his door as Arthur walked past it.

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was a whisper.

“Merlin,” Arthur jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No- . You didn’t. I was awake. I was waiting.” Merlin slipped out his door to stand across from Arthur in the hall. Merlin was still in his shirt and trousers and Arthur felt his initial guilt of having woken him dissipate. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

“And here I am, Merlin. Whatever are you going to do with me?” Arthur didn’t like the tone his voice was taking but his anger still boiled and now that Merlin stood in front of him it seemed to increase at the thought that he must surely have disappointed him.

Merlin shrunk back from him and shook his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know- .”

“How the evening went?” Arthur finished for him. “Oh, it was a smashing success. The masses were filled with pity and delight at my pathetic state - two of my favorite emotions, I might add, I love nothing more than being pitied and mocked - Gwaine and Elena’s night was ruined trying to keep my mood uplifted, and I all but punched my uncle to cap off the evening. Did you imagine my night like that, Merlin? Because I don’t think you did.”

Arthur knew his voice was raising in volume with every word and that as much as he wanted to control the anger in it he couldn’t bring himself to actually do so though Merlin deserved none of it.

Merlin. God. Beautiful, glorious Merlin. Arthur ached for him to walk across the hall and pull him into his arms, drag him into his rooms, and make all of the noise in his head disappear.

Why couldn’t he do that? _Why?_

“I knew it would be difficult for you,” Merlin said, his voice appeasing but with an edge of nervousness to it as well. “And I wanted to help- . I thought I could. I thought- . Did you play Chopin?” Merlin asked suddenly, his eyes drawn to the pile of sheet music clasped in Arthur’s hand. “I was straining to listen, but I didn’t hear. I had hoped it would bring you- . I hoped it would bring you something you wanted.”

Arthur felt as if Merlin were speaking in riddles, he was stumbling over his words and nothing made sense to Arthur in his anger. And blast it all to hell, he didn’t know why Merlin kept insisting on Chopin like it was the cure to the world’s ills. At that moment Arthur felt for Chopin the way Elena did, he meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Arthur hadn’t any room in his head to be traipsing about with something as unimportant as bloody Chopin.

“I’m not in need of Chopin, Merlin,” Arthur said angrily. “In fact, it is the very last thing on my mind right now and I’d be most obliged if you’d stop nattering on about it altogether.”

Arthur watched as all the color drained out of Merlin’s face and he took a stumbling step backwards.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I thought you might want- . I thought.” Merlin stopped and tried pulling in air as if he couldn’t breathe.

All of Arthur’s anger immediately dissipated at the look on Merlin’s face and the sound of his shattered voice. None of it was Merlin’s fault and yet he’d born the brunt of Arthur’s anger. Ice ran through Arthur’s veins at thought of what he’d done and said, he could feel it twist itself up inside his heart and crack it apart. He reached out for Merlin and took a step toward him.

“Merlin, I’m so- .”

But he was interrupted by Merlin speaking again; taking even more steps away from him and not even looking up into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Arthur.” His words were choked, broken, and they brought tears to Arthur’s eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d find it so abhorrent. I never meant to disgust you. I promise never to speak of it again.”

And before Arthur could reach Merlin and grasp his hands in his own Merlin was already back inside his room and the door quickly closed behind him.

Arthur stood alone and confused in the hallway. He didn’t understand Merlin’s words; he knew his own had been overly harsh and an overreaction, but he couldn’t decipher the nature of Merlin’s. He knew he had obviously hurt Merlin but he hadn’t shown disgust, had he? His heart was pounding away in his chest and he was more confused by Merlin’s words by the minute.

He walked to Merlin’s door and pressed his hand against the smooth wood. He willed his hand to knock and his voice to speak and request Merlin’s forgiveness but he didn’t move and every word he knew was stuck in his throat.

Instead, he turned away from Merlin’s door and walked to his own and marvelled at the fact that this break with Merlin was a sharper pain than ever he’d experienced. Greater even than when he’d thought he’d lost everything.

Now, however, he realized how very much more he could lose.

 

~*~

 

Merlin avoided him over the next several days. No matter how often Arthur tried to engage him in conversation or tried to purposely encounter him in the hallways of the house or in the parlour Merlin was having none of it. There was always a mumbled excuse and a quick departure whenever their paths happened to cross and it was painfully obvious that Merlin was leaving early and returning late to prevent any kind of interaction between the two of them.

Arthur had taken to leaving notes under Merlin’s door asking to be forgiven and trying to explain his behavior that night in a way that would make Merlin talk to him again. Every note ended the same way; with a request once again for forgiveness and that they should remain friends.

Arthur felt as if he was lying in wait for Merlin, stalking him like some sort of animal. His days seemed to revolve around watching at doors for Merlin’s exit or return. Nothing else mattered and everything in Arthur’s life that wasn’t Merlin fell away.

After several unanswered notes Arthur finally ran into Merlin as he was leaving his room in the morning, Arthur had tossed and turned most of the night and awoken when it was still dark in anticipation of Merlin’s leaving. He had grabbed Merlin by his coat sleeve and asked rather desperately if he’d found the notes Arthur had left for him.

“Of course I found them,” Merlin had answered. There was an edge of anger to his voice and Arthur knew he still wasn’t forgiven.

“Then it’s impossible, I suppose,” Arthur had said quietly.

“Impossible?” Merlin asked as he tried to extricate himself from Arthur’s hold.

“Us. Being friends once again. I miss- .” Arthur began. “I miss your voice.”

Merlin sighed and closed his eyes, seemingly defeated by the moment.

“We’re still friends, Arthur.” It sounded as if it pained him to say the words. “And friends are all we’ll ever be.”

“Merlin- .” Arthur called out, but he was already out of Arthur’s grip and halfway down the stairs.

Arthur wondered if perhaps he wasn’t going crazy. Nothing Merlin said was making sense and he felt as if his world were crumbling around him.

 

~*~

 

It wasn’t until into the second week of Arthur’s misery that he discovered what the problem between himself and Merlin truly was, and with that discovery came the greatest happiness of Arthur’s life.

He had been sorting through his messy rooms. Since the night at Devlin’s and his and Merlin’s falling out he’d been wallowing aimlessly amidst the terrible mess of his rooms. There were clothes and books and bottles of wine left lying about everywhere. That morning, after yet another shunning on Merlin’s part, Arthur had decided that enough was enough. He was still unhappier than he’d ever been but he needn’t live in squalor.

He was sitting on his bed sifting through the piles of sheet music he’d tossed into the corner when he’d returned to his rooms that night. He was placing the sheets in their proper order when a folded piece of paper slipped from between the pages of Chopin’s _Nocturne in E Flat Major_ , one of Merlin’s particular favorites.

Arthur unfolded the sheet of paper and his hands started to shake so badly he could barely read it.

 

>   
> 
> 
> _Arthur -_
> 
> _For weeks I’ve been wanting to say this to you but haven’t had the courage to do so. It has weighed on my mind but even more so on my heart which is constantly beating out of time. It hasn’t been able to find its proper rhythm since the day I set eyes on you because from that moment forward it has beat entirely and most ardently for you._
> 
> _There are times I can barely breathe for the beating of it but you smile at me and my chest eases and there is air once more. I have often thought over the weeks that I would be caught; caught staring at you, admiring you, wanting you in ways I know I should not. It is a constant worry, but then there are days when I catch you in the same plight as myself, I see in your eyes what I know must be flaring out of my own in sparks of brilliant light and I have hope._
> 
> _I have so much hope, Arthur._
> 
> _You reach for me at times and say things that make me want more than I can bear and it is because of that unbearable desire that I have finally broken and cannot expect my willful heart to hold itself in place much longer._
> 
> _I want you to come to me. I want you to come to me so that I may kiss your beautiful lips and swallow your words. I want you to come to me so that I can hold you in my arms and touch every part of you so my fingers can finally stop aching for want of touching you._
> 
> _If you feel the same, please come to me. Please, Arthur. But if I’ve misunderstood everything and this letter shocks you more than pleases you I beg of you to tell me once and speak of it no more. I want to at least be able to cling to the hope that you will still play me Chopin._
> 
> _Yours,  
>  -M_

 

Arthur held the letter so tightly in his shaking hands that he nearly tore it. He found himself gasping for breath and all he could think about was Merlin. He had to get to him. Explain. God, how he must have suffered thinking Arthur didn’t care, and so cruelly at that.

Though it was well after midnight Arthur left his rooms and ran to Merlin’s door. He pounded on it with the flat of his hand and called out Merlin’s name, not caring a wit if the rest of the house heard the racket. Merlin had to open the door. He _had_ to.

Arthur’s hand continued to hit against the door as he thought he heard rustling from inside Merlin’s rooms.

“Merlin,” he called out again.

Merlin’s door finally opened and he appeared before Arthur, pale and wide-eyed. “Arthur, is something wrong?” he asked worriedly, his eyes scanning over Arthur.

“I’m sorry- .” Arthur gasped as he pushed his way into Merlin’s rooms and quickly closed the door behind him. “I’m so sorry. Merlin. I didn’t know,” he said as he held up Merlin’s letter, still tightly clasped in his hand. “I never read it that night. What I said- . It wasn’t.”

Arthur’s hands shook as he held the letter out to Merlin whose face was beginning to change as he came to realize what Arthur was saying.

“You didn’t read it?”

Arthur shook his head.

“But what you said- .” Merlin’s voice trailed off.

“I didn’t know what I was saying, or that you thought- .” Arthur stopped and looked at Merlin. “If I had read it I would have come to you. Running,” he said as he stepped forward and took Merlin’s face in his hands. “I would have run to you, as fast as my legs could carry me.”

“Really?” Merlin asked, his voice shaky as he took Arthur’s wrists in his hands.

“God. Of course.”

Arthur kissed Merlin then, so happy to be given the chance that he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. There was a gasp of surprise from Merlin that brushed across Arthur’s lips but he only pressed closer and Merlin responded.

Neither held back and Arthur felt the thrill of heat rush through him as Merlin kissed him more fiercely, seemingly as hungry for him as he was for Merlin. He felt the grasp of Merlin’s hands tighten around his wrists and the hold would have been painful if Arthur had been able to feel anything but joy and the touch of Merlin’s lips.

Arthur, determined to never stop kissing Merlin now that he had him, pressed kisses to the rise of Merlin’s cheek and corner of his brow as Merlin let go of his wrists to wrap his arms around Arthur’s neck and press himself closer to Arthur’s body. The feel of his chest against Arthur’s own made him want beyond what he had ever thought he could have.

Merlin’s own lips were doing the same as Arthur’s, pressing kisses everywhere they could as he said Arthur’s name over and over again as if that were the only thing keeping him real.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and guided them both back toward Merlin’s bed. He practically lifted Merlin’s feet off the floor and as they neared the bed he gasped as Merlin held him more tightly and lifted his legs from the floor to wrap around Arthur’s waist as he laughed in delighted shock at his boldness. Arthur stopped and simply held Merlin aloft, his face against Merlin’s neck and his smiling lips breathing along Merlin’s collarbone.

“You make me mad,” Merlin laughed as he tangled his fingers into Arthur’s hair. “You’re a madness, Arthur, one from which I hope never to be cured.”

Arthur laughed and turned toward the bed. Merlin clung to him as Arthur let them both fall to the mattress and his thighs tightened around Arthur’s hips, keeping him nestled on top of Merlin where they had landed.

“The two of us in our very own Bedlam.” Arthur smiled down into Merlin’s face. “May they lock us up and throw away the key.”

Merlin’s fingers had traced Arthur’s mouth as he spoke and the moment he was finished he surged forward and pressed a desperate kiss to Arthur’s lips as if to prove his insanity. Arthur was ravenous for Merlin and thought if the same mad desire coursing through him was what insanity felt like he wanted nothing more than to live his days in raging madness.

Arthur backed away only enough to run his hands along Merlin’s side and to push his shirt up. Merlin’s skin was hot to the touch and gloriously pale as Arthur held him at his sides and kissed his way across Merlin’s stomach. He felt Merlin squirming and arching beneath him as he took his time pushing Merlin’s shirt up and kissing each newly visible stretch of skin. When Arthur’s lips closed around Merlin’s nipple he bucked beneath Arthur and strained to pull his shirt the rest of the way off. His hands scrambled against the back of Arthur’s own shirt next; tugging it free of his trousers and pulling it up so he could slide his hands over the skin of Arthur’s back.

Arthur felt the slight scratch of Merlin’s blunt nails as they dragged over his skin. He lightly bit down on Merlin’s nipple and delighted in the sound of his responding moan and the way his fingers dug into his back. Arthur pulled away from Merlin and sat back on his heels to take off his shirt and toss it to the side. He took a moment to look down at Merlin and gaze upon him as his eyes raked over Arthur’s chest and finally up to his face. A shy smile spread across Merlin’s lips when he found Arthur staring down at him just as avidly as he’d been looking upon Arthur.

Merlin grabbed at Arthur’s hips and pulled himself upright until he was sitting, legs spread around Arthur and nearly sitting on his lap, Arthur wanted to reach out and pull him the rest of the way until he was so but Merlin spoke then and his attention was drawn to Merlin’s words.

“Please stay,” Merlin said and there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice that brought a twinge to Arthur’s heart. “Stay,” he repeated.

Arthur took Merlin’s face in his hands again and ran his thumbs over the stubble of Merlin’s jaw.

“I don’t think I could leave even if the room were on fire. I want you so badly that I would simply say, _‘let it burn’_.”

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” Merlin said as he pushed himself up into Arthur’s lap. “Though I would gladly burn with you,” he added as he pressed kisses to Arthur’s temple.

Arthur felt as though he could spend hours kissing Merlin without stop but he was so desperate to have him, to sink down into him and find some sort of release for all the hunger and desire that had built up inside of him over the last months, that he wrapped an arm securely around Merlin’s waist and laid him back down onto the mattress.

Merlin made a sound caught somewhere between a whimper and a gasp as he arched up and rubbed himself against Arthur’s hip. Arthur gripped Merlin’s hair and pulled his head back so that he was forced to look up at Arthur who wanted him to see that he ached for him as well. Merlin must have liked what he saw in Arthur’s eyes because a look of satisfaction crossed his own as he laughed with reckless pleasure.

“What you do to me,” Arthur said, his voice low as he curved his hand around Merlin’s neck. “You beautiful thing.”

Seeing Arthur coming undone along with him gave Merlin a glorious confidence. He stretched and moved beneath Arthur with a sinuous grace; all long limbs and pale skin that knew they had absolute possession of Arthur.

Merlin’s fingers worked at Arthur’s trousers until he could push them down Arthur’s hips. Arthur rolled away from Merlin so he could kick them the rest of the way off his legs. He settled beside Merlin and ran a hand low across his stomach as he hitched his hips and pushed his own trousers down his thighs. When he sat up to pull them the rest of the way off Arthur pressed himself to Merlin’s side and kissed him along his neck as he ran his hands down Merlin’s spine. Merlin’s own hand wound itself around Arthur’s ankle and then made it’s way up his shin, to his knee, and along the outside of Arthur’s thigh.

“I knew you’d look like this if I ever got the chance to see you,” Merlin said as he turned his face into Arthur’s for a kiss. “All golden and mine.”

Arthur kissed him then and though they were tangled together, naked, and aching with want, there was something wholly calm in kissing Merlin that made his heart beat no less quickly than it had been but with a settled steadiness that was easier to bear.

Merlin rose up and settled himself so he was straddling Arthur’s thigh, his cock heavy between them.

“I’m nervous,” he laughed breathlessly as he ran his hands through Arthur’s hair. “But I feel brave as well. Does that even make sense?”

Arthur turned his face into Merlin’s, brushed his nose along the curve of Merlin’s jaw. “I feel the same.” He reached up and ran his fingers over Merlin’s brow. “We’ll be good together, Merlin.”

“What if we’re not?”

“Then we shall have to keep trying until we are.” Arthur smiled at Merlin who laughed at Arthur’s response.

“Yes,” Merlin said, still laughing. “We shall.”

Arthur took Merlin’s hands in his and kissed his fingers. “Do you have anything to ease- ?” he began to ask but stopped when a sudden shyness overcame him.

Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek as he got up and walked across the room to his bureau of drawers. Arthur sat on the bed waiting, but watching as well, thankful Merlin had still been awake and had yet to turn down the lights in his room. Every glorious piece of him on display for Arthur’s eyes; his shoulders broad but the rest of him so slim, pale, and long-limbed.

When Merlin turned back to Arthur and caught him staring he dipped his head and Arthur could see the blush working itself down his neck.

“So shy.” Arthur teased.

“When you look at me like that.” Merlin waved his hand toward Arthur then let it fall to his side.

“How do I look at you?”

Merlin shook his head like he wasn’t going to answer so Arthur asked him again.

“How do I look at you?”

“Like I’m something worth looking at.”

“If you only knew what I feel as I look at you, you’d well know your worth.”

Merlin walked back over to the bed and Arthur noticed he took his time, let Arthur look his fill.

“And now you just tease me,” Arthur said.

Merlin laughed as he crawled across the bed back to Arthur’s side. “Perhaps a little.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Arthur whispered as he kissed Merlin’s lips.

Merlin pressed a small bottle into Arthur’s hand and his fingers closed around it, holding it tightly as he wrapped an arm around Merlin and turned him onto his back. Arthur settled between Merlin’s thighs and though they were both hard and pressing against each other’s skin, they contented themselves with kissing. Arthur could feel the tenseness lying just beneath Merlin’s skin and knew it matched his own. He kissed Merlin until he could feel him relax against him; until Arthur felt as though he had melted into Merlin.

Arthur pulled away from Merlin and sat back on his heels between Merlin’s spread thighs. He looked down at him and smiled as Merlin reached out and gently touched his wrist, whispered his name. Merlin bent his knees and pulled his legs up and Arthur leaned down into him, briefly rested his forehead against the inside of Merlin’s bent knee before kissing it and sitting back up.

Arthur found his hands shaking as he poured some of the oil from the small bottle Merlin had given him into his hand. He touched the inside of Merlin’s thigh with his other hand and looked up at him.

“Have you- ?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded. “There have been others.”

Arthur nodded as well. “I’m glad.” Nodded again. “That you know what to expect. I didn’t want to hurt- .” Arthur stopped and let out a shaky laugh. “But I’m jealous as well.”

Merlin propped himself up on his elbows. “Good,” he said succinctly. “Because I’m jealous of everyone that looked upon you before I did, that kissed you before I did, that had any part of you before I did. It’s only fair you feel the same.”

Arthur smiled in satisfaction at the possessive tone of Merlin’s voice knowing he wasn’t alone. He leaned down and kissed Merlin just so he could feel the gasp of breath cross his lips as he pressed a finger inside him. Merlin was responsive, eager, as he pushed back against Arthur. He kept kissing Arthur and asking for more until Arthur had opened him enough to push his cock inside him.

Merlin made a noise that sounded like a sob and Arthur immediately stopped his hips but Merlin shook his head as he pulled in a gasp of breath and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s shoulders to hold him tightly. Arthur understood then what that sob meant; it wasn’t the physical pain the drew it from Merlin’s lips but the pain of wanting what was finally given that brought forth the sob. Relief, joy, the end of wanting all these things they felt they could never have. Arthur understood it, understood Merlin, and had never felt so connected to another person in all of his life.

Arthur started to slowly rock his hips once again and Merlin’s breaths echoed in his ear like sighs. Beautiful and his alone.

Merlin slid his hands down Arthur’s back and grabbed his backside, his hands large and warm against Arthur’s skin, their touch making him shiver. They felt possessive and eager, holding him, squeezing him until he moved at the pace they commanded as Merlin’s forehead pressed against his own and Merlin chanted his name over and over with a quiet desperation.

Arthur worked his arms underneath Merlin’s shoulders so he could lift him up slightly from the bed, holding him against his chest more firmly as he pushed into him, deeply, filling him full. He wanted to draw out the moment as long as he could, he dreaded the moment he had to pull himself from Merlin’s body, separate them the least little bit, but having longed for Merlin for so long Arthur was embarrassingly close to his release.

“Merlin. God.” He mouthed at Merlin’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur thought he managed to mumble an excuse and another apology but they were lost to the startled laugh that broke from Merlin’s lips as he came, his cock trapped between their stomachs and never once touched.

“Arthur.” Merlin gasped, flushed and laughing, and suddenly Arthur’s embarrassment left him. He laughed too, groaned into the crook of Merlin’s neck, as his hips pushed erratically into him and he came as well.

He let himself collapse on top of Merlin who kept his legs wrapped firmly around Arthur’s hips not letting him go.

“So quickly done,” Arthur laughed against Merlin’s bare shoulder. “Like a school boy.”

Merlin’s laughter rang out through the room as he tilted his head back and ran a hand through his hair.

“And I even worse.” Merlin said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Arthur touched the side of Merlin’s neck with his fingertips as he pressed his nose against his cheek and smiled, a rumble of laughter still in his throat. “It only means that we must try again,” he teased.

“And again,” Merlin readily agreed.

“I feel as though it will take an age for me to manage it properly.”

Merlin laughed again. “Oh yes, years and years.”

Arthur pulled back from Merlin so he could look down into his face, could touch his eyelashes and the slope of his nose.

“Yes, years and years,” he said quietly, earnestly. “I like that.”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he shifted beneath Arthur until he had to relent and reluctantly pull himself out of Merlin’s body. Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the loss of him but they opened again to look at him as Merlin shifted to his side and Arthur followed his movements.

“I didn’t mean it,” Merlin began and then looked away from Arthur. “Not like that. This doesn’t need to be more than what it is.”

Arthur took Merlin’s chin in his hand and made him look at him again. “And what is this?” he asked.

Merlin looked miserable but covered it by giving Arthur a careless shrug and muttered, “This. A diversion,” as he waved his hand between them.

Arthur knew he could very easily be angry at Merlin for thinking so little of him, especially after all they had said to one another and had done, but he knew the burst of feelings and the intensity of the moment had been shocking and was probably scaring Merlin to death with the uncertainty.

“This,” Arthur said as he grabbed Merlin’s hand and held it between them, “is more than a diversion and well you know it.” He stopped talking and stared at Merlin until he could read what was inside him, until he nodded his understanding. “This is your years and years and if you think of it any differently I simply won’t allow it.”

Arthur could actually see the flush of hope and joy that spread across Merlin’s face before he quickly tried to hide it as he said, “That’s a very pompous declaration. As if you have any say over me.” Merlin tried to sound off-handed and arrogant but his smile ruined it entirely.

“I’ve been called pompous before, it’s no matter to me,” Arthur said with a raise of his eyebrow which made Merlin laugh and push at the offending eyebrow with his fingertip.

“I love it when it does that,” he said.

“Yes, well, it usually happens around Gwaine. He frequently needs to be told the lay of the land.”

“I’m sure he appreciates it,” Merlin said as he smiled at him again and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I meant what I said, behind all the bluster,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “I know you did. I was foolish to say what I did, I didn’t mean a word of it. I don’t know why I said it because it pains me that you’d think I’d want this to be less when the very thought of it makes me greedier than I’ve ever been. This is all I want. _You’re_ all I want, but you don’t know how you terrify me.”

“You terrify me as well,” Arthur said as he squeezed Merlin’s hand more tightly in his. “What I feel for you shakes me to my core, Merlin.”

Merlin moved toward Arthur, took him in his arms and said, “I never want to be apart from you but I don’t know how we can ever be together.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur said as he held Merlin just as tightly as he was holding him. “We’ll find a way.”

They held each other in silence for a while and Arthur marvelled at the wonder of it, that he could even touch Merlin much less hold him so closely, pressed together in a tangle of naked skin. He ran his fingers up and down Merlin’s spine and thought about what he could tell him to make him believe it could work out. The two of them were never going to be easy, but it would happen. Arthur couldn’t bear to think otherwise.

“One day,” Merlin said into the quietness that had settled around them. “You’ll get your home back and then you’ll be far away from me.” His fingers dug into Arthur. “So far out of my reach,” he whispered.

“I may never get my home back.”

“You will.” There was such certainty in Merlin’s voice.

“Then it will be your home as well.”

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed.

“You’ll be a long lost cousin come to help me care for the estate. A distant relative, the new steward, anything, as long as you’re with me.”

“You know that’s not possible.” Merlin said pulling away from him. “I saw it in the way you spoke to me of your home, your people, that day at Gwaine’s. You could never leave them without an heir. You’re such a good man, Arthur, you’ll do your duty. You’ll marry and have beautiful children you’ll raise to have hearts as kind as yours and there’s no place for me in that world.”

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “It will work out.”

Merlin shook his head. “You’re only saying that to give me hope. It’s best to stay in reality no matter how painful than live in a dream and have it come crashing down later. We’ll bear the hurt now so we can revel in whatever time we have left to us, free of illusions.”

“You are like a Doomsday profit, Merlin. What’s wrong with having belief?”

“I simply want whatever time I have with you to be ours alone. I need to cling to what I have of you.”

“You’ll have me always.”

“The world doesn’t work that way, Arthur, you more than anyone should recognize its vulgarities and whims.”

“I have a sister,” Arthur said, suddenly. “A half-sister that my father never claimed nor acknowledged but I’ve made it a point to know her. She lives in Dorset and is married to a good man with children of her own; three boys and a girl. Merlin, the estate will be theirs should I not produce an heir.”

Merlin looked at him and Arthur watched as he struggled with the hope Arthur’s statement provided him. “Are you sure, Arthur?”

Arthur placed his forehead against Merlin’s. “Let yourself hope, Merlin,” he whispered.

“I can hardly bring myself to do it. It’s too much.”

“I will give you my word and there is nothing I won’t do to assure that my word holds true.”

“I want to hope because I’ve been so miserable circling around you, aching for you, and not knowing you felt the same. It would have liked to tear my heart apart but suddenly you’re here with me like this and there’s tomorrows and years to come and I can’t make myself believe I’m doing anything but dreaming all of this.”

“I know, it’s all a mad rush, but we’ll have time to talk and make it feel more real. All I’m asking from you right now is to promise me you’ll hope because I love you, Merlin, and I desperately need you to believe in that.”

Merlin’s lips crashed into Arthur’s and the kiss rushed through him, hungry and deep, and happy in a way Arthur couldn’t describe. “Oh god, Arthur,” Merlin gasped into his mouth. “I love you too. So much.” His fingers tangled up in Arthur’s hair and he laughed out loud, the joy of it rippled down Arthur’s spine. “My life undone by a man playing Chopin.”

Arthur laughed too, nearly giddy with it. “See how you must come away with me. Who else would play you Chopin?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” Merlin smiled. “It appears as though we’re stuck with one another.”

“Oh, my long lost cousin,” Arthur teased.

“Twice removed,” Merlin added.

“However,” Arthur said. “If no one believes that load of codswallop we’ll simply go live with Gwaine and Elena. Once they’re wed they’ll start having what I’m sure will be at least a dozen little boys and girls, the girls likely just as reckless and wild as the boys, if not more so, that will need proper adult supervision lest Gwaine and Elena let them run around naked like little monkeys.”

Merlin laughed. “Shall we be their tutors?”

“At the very least. My God, Merlin, can you imagine what complete and utter chaos will inhabit that house? I’m sure we’ll be needed there to set everything to rights.”

Merlin smiled fondly. “They’ll be wonderful parents, won’t they?”

“They’ll be tragically happy,” Arthur said. “All fourteen of them.”

Merlin ran the backs of his fingers down Arthur’s chest.

“Gwaine would love nothing more than to have an enormous pile of little girls exactly like their mother, just as fearless and loud and opinionated.” Arthur said.

“What’s two more in the middle of all of that?” Merlin asked. “They’ll hardly notice we’re there.”

“My quiet, little mouse,” Arthur whispered fondly as he kissed the rise of Merlin’s cheekbone. Merlin hummed and pressed closer to him.

“We’ll be tragically happy right along with them,” Merlin said.

“Yes, we will.”

 

~End


End file.
